Focusing on a single band over a weekend is a tricky business on the radio. Get it wrong and you risk provoking the ire of the music police, who are a bit like the fashion police only more militant. They will rain hellfire and damnation down on you on Twitter, picket outside your office and very likely follow you home, barge into your house, skim through your record collection and locate the copy of Kylie and Jason's "Especially for You" that you had studiously hidden from your family, and hold it up as evidence of your abominable taste.

'Siouxie Sioux and I raced each other all the way to Albuquerque, New Mexico'

“Was it too quiet for you, asshole?” Lou Reed enquires, putting all the dripping contempt he can muster, which is plenty, into demolishing a fan who unwisely, ironically yelled “Louder!” after tonight’s first song.

I'm a total musical tart My playlist goes from Sam Cooke and Emeli Sandé to Maverick Sabre; it's a real pick and mix. But because I work in radio I now dedicate time each month to listen to an album from start to finish; I like the lyrical stories some tell, such as with Emeli Sandé's album [Our Version of Events], which I sing my heart out to on the [London] Underground.

This extraordinary album of chamber-style improvisations by the Norwegian trio of Okland (violin/Hardanger fiddle), Apeland (harmonium/Wurlitzer) and Skarbo (drums) lasts a little over half an hour and casts a very powerful spell.

We now spend more on coffee in a year than we do on our energy bills – and as the price of beans rises, we respond by becoming ever more fussy about our drinks.

The Cincinnatti-based multi-instrumentalist Brian Olive reveals a deep affection for British psych-rock on this solo debut.

Stuart Braithwaite (vocals, guitar) and Barry Burns (guitar, keyboards) are members of the Scottish post-rock five-piece Mogwai. The group, who formed in Glasgow in 1995, released their seventh studio album, Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will, in February. Their “Earth Division” EP is released on 12 September

"We love you, Lou!" shouts a crazed audience member. "You know, by now, I love you too," croaks The Velvet Underground legend, who is notoriously uncompromising when it comes to testing what fans are willing to accept as entertainment. Having endured the unlistenable electronic clamour of Metal Machine Music and the crashing downer of Berlin, none of the audience are expecting a full-blown radio-friendly hits showdown tonight.

Gently wrought from strands of acoustic guitar, mandolin, violin and harp, encountering the genteel Demolished Thoughts after Thurston Moore's more abrasive work with Sonic Youth is akin to hearing Paris 1919 after John Cale's rampaging Velvet Underground period.

Tom Daley's story is an inspirational one. Now 16, the diver finds his father a little bit embarrassing when he insists on a cuddle during a press conference, but Rob has apparently never missed a training session since his son first took the plunge aged six. Now Tom's a world champion, and one of Britain's best prospects for a gold medal in two years' time.

Forget questions of authenticity and credibility, this Swiss Cajun/zydeco trio make a thrillingly souped-up racket with the standard Cajun weaponry of guitar, banjo, melodeon and rub board.

Even by their own slack standards, it's something of a surprise that it has taken a decade for Kimya (Moldy Peaches, Juno soundtrack) Dawson and Jeffrey Lewis to record together. The pair met in New York City during the anti-folk movement of the late 1990s and wrote five songs before going their separate ways. The Bundles' debut album contains those songs and five more, all of which are utterly charming and fall just the right side of twee - think late-period Velvet Underground if MoTucker had had equalbilling to Lou Reed.